


Open

by schwertlilie



Series: Between Lines [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cock Worship, Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, F/M, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Romance, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Worship, mtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University AU, England/fem!Canada. Mathilda wants Arthur, but she's scared that once he sees her naked he'll stop treating her like a woman; Arthur pulls out all his gentlemanly charm to prove her wrong.</p>
<p>Should stand on its own, if you don't want to read the rest of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open

Things had been progressing well, Arthur had thought. Matt's tongue had been in his mouth, her hands on his thighs, his fingers exploring her stomach. But she'd pushed herself back when his fingertips touched her sharp hipbones, biting her lip and turning her face away, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

"Matt?" 

She shivered, her hair half in her eyes.

He tried again. "Mathilda? Was I- If I was going too fast, I'm sorry."

"No! I mean-" She took a breath, tilted her head just a little toward him. "No, you weren't. It's that-" She bit her lip.

He touched the corner of her mouth; she didn't let go of her lip, and she didn't pull away. "You don't have to justify anything, love, just tell me where the boundary is and we can-"

"Idon'twantyoutostoptreatingmelikeawoman."

"... I beg your pardon?"

"I- don't want you to stop treating me like a woman." 

"And why would I do a thing like that?"

She huffed, a little impatiently, and placed his hand over her groin.

Where there'd been a smooth line, there was now a bulge. A bulge that was hot under Arthur's hand, that made Matt's eyelashes flutter when Arthur cupped his palm. "I, uh, you told me about this."

"It's not the same, before you've seen it."

"I've sucked cock before." He cleared his throat, and drew his hand away. "I've been told I'm not bad. And I'm clean."

"It's not-" Her mouth twisted. "So am I, but that's not the point. Just- Stay above the waist tonight, okay?"

 

Arthur spent the next three weeks wondering what, exactly, his girlfriend was so nervous about. It wasn't like he could ask his housemates - especially not _Francis_ \- and Mathilda wasn't out to Kiku, so he wasn't an option. Matt herself avoided the topic, and he kept his hands above her waist or below her knees.

He finally realised it when he was in the shower, having a wank. He'd been imagining going down on her, of sucking her prick straight into his mouth, of swallowing her as far down as he could and overloading her with sensation right from the beginning. Fantasy-Matt shouted his name when he scraped his teeth against the underside of her cock and tried to fuck his mouth, his throat; he simply moved with her, his head following the rise and fall of her hips, something of a sadist and nothing like...

... A gentleman.

He halted, hot water streaming over his chest and forearm. His first night with a woman, he always, _always_ explored her first, then drove her out of her mind with pleasure. He'd had more one-night stands with men, had fewer compunctions about diving straight into mouth-to-cock contact, and tended to leave exploration of sensitive spots until a month or two in - if they even made it that far. Which- which wasn't quite _right_ for Mathilda. 

No, she deserved a gentleman, until she told him otherwise. And judging from the way his prick twitched at the thought of licking a slow trail up from her balls, of her flushed and panting, it wasn't like being a gentleman would be a hardship. 

 

The following Saturday afternoon found Arthur in Mathilda's dorm bed, his back against her striped sheets and his hands on her waist. She kissed him hard, pushing him farther into the mattress while her tongue curled behind his teeth. His fingertips tightened against her skin when she moved to the side, mouthed at the corner of his jaw.

He groaned. "I want you," he murmured into her hair.

She froze for a moment, then pushed herself up to see his face. "Me? Now?"

"Yes." He circled his thumbs against her ribs. "I _want_ you, love."

Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink and he reached up, cupped her face in his palm. 

"You're a beautiful woman, Mathilda, and I'll wait as long as you require."

Her tongue flicked against her lips, and her mouth curved into a smile. "And if I don't want to wait anymore?"

He pushed himself up for a kiss; she met him halfway, didn't pull away when her hips brushed his arousal. _Slow_ , he reminded himself. Gentlemen don't push their ladies, no matter how much they wanted to delve into those ladies' skirts, He waited for her to lean back, to pull her shirt up and off, before he let his hands run up her chest and his mouth move to her collarbone. _Oh_ , the way her head tipped back, the happy noises she made when the flat of his tongue drew along the line of bone and across her shoulder. 

He didn't comment on her waxed chest or the strength in the fingers bunched in his dress shirt; instead he pressed kisses down her arm, thumbed her nipples, and discovered that trailing his fingernails across her ribs made her moan. 

He glanced up to find her looking at him, eyes wide and mouth in a little "o," and wanted so very much to see her face when he licked her from balls to tip. "I want to go down on you," he blurted.

She turned from pink to red. "I-"

What was he doing, rushing her like that? He dropped his eyes. "It's all right, we can do something else-"

She covered his mouth. "You just- _surprised_ me, is all. The last guy I slept with didn't ask with words, just waited for my nod and pulled my boxers down and went to it." She and drew her hand away. "So how do you want to...?"

He looked back up. She was still flushed, but she was smiling. "On your back?"

She nodded, slid off of him and onto the floor. 

He sat up, his hands going to the buttons of his shirt - it wasn't fair that Matt would be the only one naked - but she beat him to it. Her fingers gently slid each button through its hole in turn, neither ripping nor rushing; she didn't say anything when the shirt fell open, when he shrugged it from his shoulders and placed it on the desk chair, or when her fingers hesitated at the zipper of her skirt.

"Mathilda?"

"It's nothing." She smiled, took a breath, and lowered the zipper. Let the material flutter to the floor, leaving her in pale pink panties that dug into her skin and stretched over her erection. 

He skimmed his fingers up her thighs, let them rest on the cut of her hip; her hands fisted at her sides. "Isn't it uncomfortable?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"You, ah, haven't much room. For your penis," he clarified.

"Usually it stays tucked out of the way. You get used to it."

He nodded, and hooked his fingers into the top of her panties. "May I?" he asked. At her nod he pulled them down; he kept his eyes on hers, even as her cock bounced free, until her panties and padding were in a pile on the floor. Only then did he slowly look down and up her body, letting his gaze linger on her hips and her calves, letting her watch him admire her. He finally leaned forward, and kissed the circle-shaped birthmark left of her navel. "Beautiful." he murmured into her stomach. 

"Thank you," she whispered

"You- you don't have to _thank_ me." He pressed his temple to her abdominals. "It's just the truth."

She hummed a little as she touched his hair, but she didn't fight him on it. "Switch places?" she asked instead.

He nodded, stood and turned while she took his place on the bed, hands going to his own zipper.

After stepping out of his trousers, he turned back to Mathilda. "What?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

She coloured again. "You're gorgeous."

"I'm a scrawny English major."

"I'm a girl with a dick, and who plays hockey to boot. I guess that makes us even."

He snorted and kissed her; she didn't resist as he pushed her back against the pillows, settled between her spread legs. He flicked the corner of her mouth with his tongue before pulling away. "Lovely," he said before licking her sternum, "beautiful" - he kissed her hip - "beloved" - he nipped the inside of her left thigh - " _infuriating_ darling." She started to open her mouth, so he ran the flat of his tongue over the crease of her thigh, the dips left by her panties. 

" _Oh_ ," she said instead, and he touched the hairless skin between her hips, fingertips drawing patterns but not touching her cock. Slowly, slowly, he drew his tongue sideways and down to her scrotum. She jerked when his tongue pressed against the skin there, traced an arc around one testicle and then the other, but she didn't pull away. He hummed as he explored her sac with his lips and tongue, feeling the weight of it and the way her skin stretched when he sucked one of her balls into his mouth. 

Her hands moved against the quilt - toward him, then settling back into place - and he raised his head. "You _are_ allowed to touch me, you know."

"I know, but-" She gestured, though he didn't catch the meaning. "I don't want to pull your hair or anything."

"I like it."

"Huh." Her eyes narrowed, and when he moved back to her balls her fingers slid into his hair. 

_That_ was better. She didn't pull, but her hands made it that much easier to read her reactions, to tell the difference between a good body-shift - her fingers rubbed his scalp - and a bad one - she pushed at the top of his head. 

It also made it easier to tell when she wanted him to just get _on_ with it: her hands tugged him a few inches upward, over her cock instead of her testicles.

No sense in making lady wait. He moved with her, pressed a little kiss to the head of her cock. She arched into him, just a tad, and he moved his hands to her hips as he trailed more little kisses down the veins, back up the side. 

It really was a lovely cock - dark red like her blush, the head just poking out of the foreskin, a slight tilt to the left - even if it didn't have a nest of curls above it, and he gave it the attention it deserved. Little kisses turned to little licks with the tip of his tongue; there was a spot just above the base of her cock where the tip of his tongue made her feet kick but the flat of his tongue made her sigh. To the left of her frenulum, light pressure did nothing for her but the barest hint of teeth made her fingers tighten in his hair. And _oh_ the half-voiced noises she made when he explored her slit...

He dipped his tongue under her foreskin and glanced up to her face. He had her full attention, her flush spreading from her cheeks to her shoulders, and all he could think was "More." He lifted her cock from where it rested on her stomach, and repeated his explorations on the other side. She was squirming by the time he returned to her cockhead, little half-whines falling from her lips while she tried to tug him into position to finally, _properly_ , suck her. 

He folded his lips over his teeth and took her cockhead into his mouth. There, _there_ she finally gave a proper moan, low and needy and just what his own prick wanted to hear. 

But her hands shot up to cover her mouth, eyes wide behind her glasses, and that wouldn't do at all.

He crawled up her body and kissed her forehead. "I want to hear you," he murmured.

"But-"

"I _want_ ," he repeated, lowering himself so that his erection brushed her hip, "to hear you."

She shuddered underneath him; he waited for her to relax, to thread her fingers back into his hair and pull him down into a kiss. She kept it light, just the pressure of her lips against his, and he didn't try to deepen it. Even when she leaned back and nodded, he waited, pressing butterfly kisses to her jaw and cheekbones, stroking her shoulder, until the last of the tension left her body and she started pushing him downward again. 

"Okay," she murmured. 

She wasn't soft, but she wasn't as hard as she had been either, and Arthur decided to make up lost ground. He nuzzled the base of her cock, then tilted his head and dragged the flat of his tongue from the bottom of her balls to the tip of her cockhead. 

"Yes," she hissed, and how could a gentleman deny a lady what she wanted? So he did it again, and again, slow and easy and relishing the way her cock twitched at the attention. Licking up the left side of her cock made her fingers tighten in his hair; and when he lifted her cock from her stomach, ran his tongue all the way over her cockhead she gave a broken "hah." She let him explore, play; but eventually her happy noises faded into whines, and her fingers snarled in his hair.

"Arthur." She tugged on the tangles, as if she didn't already have his full attention. "Arthur, I need- I need to _come_."

He hummed acknowledgement into her skin. Balancing with his left hand on her hip, he circled his right around the base of her cock and lifted her cockhead into his mouth. He stroked her with his hand, varying the angle until her head fell back against her pillows; he stroked her with his mouth, his tongue, playing with her foreskin until her control broke and she began thrusting into his mouth. 

From there it was easy to match her rhythm, to encourage her to push harder and deeper with appreciative groans. She didn't get close to the back of his throat - she still had too much presence of mind for that - so he made up the skin contact with his fist.

He let himself get lost in the easy slide, in her noises, so that it was a surprise when she choked out "Arthur"; it was more of a surprise when she lifted his head from her cock and spilled onto her stomach instead of down his throat.

"Mathilda?" he asked when her breathing had evened and she had relaxed into the mattress.

"... I didn't ask." She squirmed a little as his fingers traced a still-sensitive spot on her hip. "It would have been rude, and things were so good, and..." She shrugged.

"It's all right." He paused. "And it would have _been_ all right. _Will_ be-" He huffed, and reached across her body for the tissue box. 

"I can-" She reached for the tissue, but he waved her off. "There'll be a next time, then?" she asked as he cleaned her stomach, her still spit-shiny cock. 

He just snorted - as if his interest should be in doubt, after tonight - and dropped the soiled tissue into her garbage pail. "May I kiss you?"

"Why would you-" Her eyes flicked down his body, but stopped on his erection. "Oh _god_ , Arthur, I'm sorry, everything felt so good and I forgot and-"

He placed a finger over her mouth. "That was rather the point, love."

"But-"

"But nothing. May I kiss you?" he repeated.

She nodded, and he stretched out beside her - there was just enough room, so long as he lay on his side. She placed her glasses on the window ledge as he settled against the sheets, then smiled and pressed a playful kiss to the tip of his nose. 

He brushed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, filed away the way she looked - relaxed and happy to be with _him_ \- and tilted his head to kiss her properly.

It was easy, slow; and when his other hand slipped beneath his pants her hand followed, wiggled the waistband down so she could link their fingers and stroke him off together. She was a quick learner, picking up on the half-twist he preferred over his shaft and keeping her fingernails away from his frenulum. Her other hand slid back into his hair; she tugged gently, and smiled against his mouth when he sighed against her. 

She kissed his chin, his collarbone, his eyebrows, tilting his head with a gentle strength that made him grab her hip and sent a coil of heat to his balls. His hips jerked forward and she followed, sped movement of her hand and his. He remembered to lay a tissue on the bed beneath his cock before she flicked her tongue against his teeth and tightened her grip.

He would deny that he came with a whine, that his semen coated her fingers and he let her clean him after - but he'd admit that when Matt tucked herself under his chin, he pulled her closer.

It took him a moment to understand why his forehead tickled, but then he blew her stray curl from his face. "I should-"

"Stay," she interrupted. "Have a nap."

"There are rules about guests."

"Which don't go in effect until nine o'clock." She nuzzled his collarbone. "We'll wake up in lots of time for supper, and it's pasta buffet night at the cafeteria. My treat."

"You drive a hard bargain, love."

She hummed in agreement, taking his words for assent, and tangled their legs together. 

And- well, it wasn't like he _minded_ being pressed against her, and he could use a rest, so he pulled the blue quilt up and over them both. His hand settled on her waist, and as her breathing deepened he smiled into her hair and let his eyes drift closed.


End file.
